Chicken in the Kitchen
by Trouble101 Loki Laufeyson
Summary: I (Loki) go to a potluck located in the Stark Tower and am forced to do the dishes. But I end up finding more than the cabinets for the Midgardian goblets and bowls. -Loki


Chicken in the Kitchen

~Loki Laufeyson

Thor told me that the next story I write, I should start it out saying, "Once Upon a Time…" Thus I begin.

**Once Upon a Time,** there was the Avengers. They were having a what Bucky told me "A potluck." Surely he also said that usually they have delicious food, and he was right. You see, the best thing about a potluck, is a potluck. Everyone brings a dish of food and they set it on a table. The Avengers had it in the Stark Tower and thus they had a great time.

I finally decided to come because I hadn't any plans of dinner and I am not much of a cook… I usually just eat pudding…

I opened the door and heard them yapping to each other as usual.

"Brother!" Thor exclaimed happily. "He has arrived!" He began to clap.

Everyone was silent, of course. They hate me. Everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D does.

"You need not to be excited, Thor. I'm not going to stay fairly long." I replied.

"What? Brother, no!" Thor frowned. "Stay unfairly long!"

My eyes widened. Usually "unfairly long" is going to be when Stark has an after party, and people come, and he gets drunk and… No… Not a good sight to see…

"No…" I said. "Not long."

Then a horrendous thing happened!

"Loki?" Banner's eyes widened.

"Banner?" I said with such fear.

Then he turned green and the usual happened… Surely you know he picked me up by my feet and smashed me.

"Ah, man!" Stark complained. "I just finished fixing the floors yesterday!"

The hulk turned around and ran towards the food. He ran, he leaped, he landed on the table and began to consume plenty of food.

"Hulk eat!" he yelled.

I stood up shakily. I _hate_ it when the Hulk smashes me like that, but sadly, I'm getting used to it.

I the Hulk has smashed me in a total of ninety-eight times. I'd dislike it if I'd reach one hundred.

I smiled.

"Hey, Loki!" Captain America got my attention. "Lets just keep the matter low-key for now, got it?"

Everyone bursted out laughing.

"Good one, Cap!" Romanoff commented while she tried to stop laughing.

"Want a drink?" Stark began to pour me a glass of beer.

"I don't see why not." I replied.

I usually prefer wine, but that would do. Bucky had already told me that if you drink, then you would not feel much pain, so I decided to try it.

As Stark handed me the glass and as I grabbed it and brought it to my lips, thor leaped into action. He ran up to me and jumped and snatched the drink right out of my hands and he landed on two feet. But as he jumped and he was in the air, he screamed, "BABY BROTHER NO!"

"Give me back my drink, Thor!" I tempered.

"No! You cannot have this drink back. You are not of age yet!"

"Thor! For the last time, I can drink-"

"Shhh…" he interrupted. "Silence, brother of mine…"

I sighed. Last thing I needed was Thor controlling my life. "You know, Thor. Mother did tell me I could drink wine." I commented.

"And do thou drinketh wine?"

"Yes."

Thor screamed. "NO, BROTHER!"

I could hear the Avengers snickering behind me.

"I take from you, your freedom!"

I glared.

"And I banish you to the kitchen!"

"Really, Thor?"

"Cleaneth the dishes!"

"Really?"

Thor summoned Mjölnir.

I chuckled.

"What is it, brother of mine?" Thor asked.

"I know you wouldn't hit me, that is all." I answered.

"You are right, Loki." He replied. "I shall not hit you, but I may punch you."

"That. Would. Be. Awesome!" Barton had just entered the room.

"Hey!" Stark greeted. "Nice to see you again, Clint, old buddy, old pal!"

"Pal?!" Barton looked puzzled. Then he shrugged and got used to it. He walked passed Thor and I, straight towards the broken table of food. The Hulk was still consuming the food and making pleasurable sounds as he took monster sized bites of the steak. Barton totally ignored the beast and went straight for the potato salad, Kentucky fried chicken, lobster, dungeness crab, a few pieces of sushi, one slice of pizza, macaroni and cheese, chips, cheese… Lots of cheese, a piece of pineapple, corn on the cob, he almost went in for the steak, but the Hulk roared at him… He also grabbed some steamed vegetables, coleslaw, onion rings, fish fingers, a hot dog, french fries, two hamburgers and some more sushi.

He grabbed a lot more, but Thor interrupted my staring as Barton managed to stack his plate a foot high without it spilling all over the floor.

After a few minutes of arguing with the Avengers, I accepted my place and went into Stark's large and glorious kitchen and washed his heaping piles of dishes. First I just stood there looking at it. For a billionaire, you'd think he would just hire a maid and get them to clean his kitchen. But no. He couldn't do that now can he? He has to just pile it up high into the heavens. I kept thinking to myself of how I was going to clean dishes. I come from a royal family. Like I'm going to know how to cleanse your Midgardian goblets. So I just magically washed the dishes. It almost seemed like counting sheep before you go to sleep. I watched them pop out of the soapy water and into the dishwasher.

After that was all done, I had to dry them and put them away. So I dried one by one and stacked them on the counters. From plates, to silverware, cups and goblets, mugs, bowls, et cetera. It was a lot of work. I wasn't used to this kind of work. I was used to other people doing the work for me!

Then I had to put them away. The cabinets were huge. Maybe not as large as the royal kitchen in Asgard, but they were larger than any other I've seen on Midgard.

Then I went to the bowls' cabinets. It was full already. But there was something in there making some kind of noise that sounded like a clucking sound came out as, "Buc buc buc." I wasn't sure what it was…

Then a fat bird comes out and attacks me. It was fairly colorful. I think I saw a lot of red… That actually might have been my blood as a crowed and tried to rip me apart with its vial grip. I had to push it away in order to stand up.

It crowed really loud. When I finally got to see it fully, it turned to look like a small insolent beast!

"WHAT THE HELL IS A CROWING DRAGON DOING IN STARK'S KITCHEN?!" I bellowed in anger.

Then as it charged at me, I picked it up and held its beak shut. I walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room where the potluck was being held.

Luckily, the Hulk calmed down and there was Bruce Banner sleeping on the table with a blanket over his nude body. And there was Barton, finishing up his last bite of food on his plate. And the rest of the Avengers were chatting with each other while Stark continued to drink and mock Thor.

Then everyone turned their heads and gazed upon me. Then the room fell silent except for when the crowing dragon managed to get its beak out of my hands and pecking me as it continued to cluck and crow. And every now and then I would finally get my chance to grasp its beak again and I'd take it.

Then everyone burst out laughing. They laughed so hard, you had some of them falling to the floor and gasping for a breath of air. But luckily, Banner was still asleep.

"Oh my god, Loki!" Barton giggled. "You have feathers all over you!"

They laughed even harder.

"He's-he's got a chicken!" Rogers pointed at me as he fell to the floor because he was laughing so hard.

"Cawk-a-doodle-doo!" Romanoff chuckled.

"... Loki…?" Stark asked seriously.

"What?!" I glared.

"What are you doing with Mr. Cuddles?" He asked seriously. "Don't treat my rooster like that."

I sighed. "This is a rooster?" I asked.

"... Yes…" Stark answered.

"What is a rooster doing in your kitchen?" I continued to glare.

"Because that where he belongs." Stark said as it were so obvious.

"A farm animal does not belong in a kitchen!" I tempered. "It's not their habitat because they-"

Suddenly I felt a warm, wet spot on my side.

I tried to hold back my anger. I was quite agitated. "Please don't tell me it just-"

"Oh, yes it did." Stark smiled.

"It laid dung on me, didn't it?" I asked.

"Brother!" Thor frowned. "That feathered dragon laid dung on you!"

"Did it now?" I asked sarcastically.

"Indeed, brother!"

I rubbed my eyes with my free hand (my right hand). "Wonderful."

Later on, when we went back to the S.H.I.E.L.D recruit ship, I was forced to stay outside for a bit. Then they turned on a fire hose and sprayed me with it on high. Surely I still have bruises today.

Finally night had fallen and it was time for bed. I walked to the door and entered my bedroom, changed my dripping wet clothes into pajamas and I climbed up onto the top bunk where my bed is. I was _so_ tired.

**THE END.**

"Loki?" My roommate, Bucky said from the bottom bunk.

"What?" I asked half asleep.

"Good morning."

And of course I had only gotten thirty minutes of sleep that night! UGH!


End file.
